


All He Needed Was Bucky

by ItsThatTimeOfYearAgain



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Inside Out (2015), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I dont know how far this fic is gonna go, Just expect a lot of fluff, M/M, and subtle things, but here goes nothing, its my first fic so i cant make any promises, just a crap ton of fluff okay, look for the subtle things, or where it will end up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 21:42:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4453451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsThatTimeOfYearAgain/pseuds/ItsThatTimeOfYearAgain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's mind is controlled by five emotions: Joy, Sadness, Anger, Fear, and Disgust. They go about their day making sure that Steve doesn't kill himself from getting into fights with alleyway bullies... or from fending off Ultron. But now that Steve knows that Bucky is still alive as the Winter Soldier, he is determined to find him, and his five emotions have his back. Since Steve's mind has fully developed to maturity, the emotions are as strong as they'll ever be, and they're ready to bring his best friend back. After all, making Steve the happiest person he can be is their job, and Bucky is the best way to make sure of that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All He Needed Was Bucky

Like most people by the age of twelve, Steve Rogers had five islands that made up his strong personality.  He had the two most common ones, as any child should: Family Island and Friendship Island. But the other three were more unique to him as an individual. These were Art Island, Compassion Island, and Mischief Island, and each of them were connected to one of his core memories. But the thing about Steve was that he only had four core memories, which is very very rare, especially for a child at such a young age.  One of Steve’s core memories – the most important one in fact – powered two of his islands: friendship and art.

~

_“Punk.”_

_“Jerk.”_

_Steve grinned.  He and Bucky had just finished their last day of school and they were laughing at some inside joke of theirs as they walked down the steps and out of the old stone building. It was one of Bucky’s usual teasing kinds of jokes where he made fun of some bruise or other that Steve had on his arm from getting in a fight just two days before. These things always happened. Steve always had bruises.  And Bucky, of course, would never let him hear the end of it._

_“Why is it that you always go picking fights, Stevie? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Bucky smirked down at his friend, but it was hard for Steve to miss the serious, concerned undertones of Bucky’s jest. – But it was no surprise that Bucky was concerned, Steve was tiny._ Really _tiny. And his skin was so thin, and he had so little muscle that he bruised very easily.  The bruise on his arm in fact was a huge spot of ugly purple and blue, and Steve caught Bucky’s grimace several times when he looked at it._

_“Buck you know I can’t stand it when they bully the younger kids. Its one thing to torture kids in the first place, but the fact that they pick on those little ones is just disgusting,” Steve replied, exasperated. He shook his head in disappointment and stared at the ground.  “They can’t defend themselves, Buck.  How am I supposed to just watch and walk away from them?”_

_“Steve, you can’t exactly defend yourself either,” Bucky frowned down at him but his eyes were sympathetic.  Countless times, Bucky threw punches defending him, and countless times, he picked him up off of the ground, lip bleeding and eyes closed from exhaustion. But no matter how injured he was he always managed to right himself and walk away. He hated when Bucky tried to carry him. He wasn’t weak. Steve heard Bucky sigh. He turned his head down to examine some cracks in the sidewalk passing their feet as they walked the worn route that led home. “C’mon Steve,” Bucky said as he affectionately ruffled his blond hair. “My mom probably made cookies to celebrate summer.  Let’s go home.”  Steve couldn’t resist cookies. Grinning, he looked up at Bucky._

_“Okay jerk,” he said, lazily smacking Bucky’s hand away from his head. Bucky just laughed and kept walking as he led them back to his house._

~

_“Mom, we’re home!” Bucky yelled as he stepped through the front door with Steve in tow._

_“James! How are you, Honey? How was your last day of school?” She asked cheerfully as she walked through the kitchen door, pulling an oven mitt off her hand.  “Oh Steve, you’re here too! Hello dear.” She patted Steve’s head with a smile, and for the second time that day, Steve had to fix his hair._

_“Moooom stop messing up Steve’s hair, he doesn’t like it,” Bucky protested for him, but only just before he reached over a hypocritical hand and destroyed the blond strands yet again.  Steve rolled his eyes in distress and groaned.  When he heard Bucky cackle beside him he reached over and smacked him hard on the arm.  Mrs. Barnes put a hand over her mouth as she giggled and shook her head at the pair of them, and Bucky had an offended expression painted on his face as he carefully rubbed his arm where Steve hit him._

_“Come on you two, I just pulled a tray of cookies out of the oven, and I won’t eat them, but I can’t make any promises for your father.”_

_Steve smiled up at her in response. He loved Bucky’s dad, and he really did have a massive appetite; just like his son._

_As soon as Bucky entered the kitchen, he hit the ground running for the plate of neatly piled cookies sitting on the counter, and threw himself into a chair before grabbing at the pile. Steve followed behind, with slightly less enthusiasm, but equal amounts of hunger and anticipation because Mrs. Barnes made the best cookies. (His Aunt Liz’s recipe was a close second). “Thank you, Mrs. Barnes,” Steve said politely as he took a small bite of one of the desserts._

_“Yeamf, fthamks, Mom.” Bucky choked out with his mouth full. This time he received a small cuff from his mother._

_“James, don’t talk with your mouth full.”_

_Bucky swallowed before he spoke, “but Mom, how can I talk to my bestest friend here if I have to wait to chew all of my food?” His tone was full of reason and as much wisdom as he could muster. Steve had to forcefully contain his laughter._

_“I think Steve would much rather wait than see what you’re eating,” she responded coldly, and Steve couldn’t help it; he laughed so hard he almost choked on his cookie._

_“Hey, there are my two favorite boys!” Mr. Barnes’ voice boomed as he burst into the kitchen. Steve and Bucky both turned around in their chairs, mouths stuffed full and cheeks puffed out like chipmunks. Bucky’s dad chuckled at the sight of them and tussled both of their heads with his big hands. Bucky groaned and swatted his dad away giving him a dirty look.  Steve laughed at Bucky’s reaction and thought to himself that this was Bucky’s payback for messing up his hair several times that day. “So what’s the plan for today boys?” Mr. Barnes asked staring at them with youthful, glowing eyes. “Hiking through the woods? Outside games?”_

_“Well, actually there’s a ball game on today that Steve and I wanted to listen to on the radio,” Bucky said, choosing his words with caution and looking up at his dad with pleading eyes.  Mr. Barnes always listened to the radio.  Every day at the same exact time: five o’clock.  He would listen to his favorite news show, and there was never a day he didn’t miss it.  Which is why it was a huge problem that Bucky and Steve’s ball game was on at exactly five o’clock that day._

_“Hmmmm. Well, it was your last day of school,” Bucky’s dad faked an internal debate as he placed his fist under his jaw and looked up to the ceiling.  Meanwhile, Bucky stared up at him with the biggest puppy eyes Steve had ever seen, and he tried to think of people who could resist that face. He stared at his friend and started to get lost in daydreams until he heard a response: “Alright, I guess you guys can have the radio for today, but today only.” He ended his compliance on a more serious note._

_“Yes!” Bucky closed his eyes and pumped both fists in the air in silent victory, and Steve only grinned and got down off his chair. He proceeded to walk into the living room and plop himself on the couch. Two seconds later, his ‘bestest’ friend followed suit, and ended up crushing Steve into the cushions._

_“MMFFMFMMF FFMMFMM!”_

_“What was that?” Bucky said, with a hand cupped over his ear and a wide, amused grin plastered on his face._

_“I_ said _, ‘Get off me Buck!’” Steve replied, just barely pushing himself up and then flipping Bucky off him and off the couch.  When he heard a muffled groan on the floor next to him, his amusement immediately switched to concern. He leaned over to look down at his friend. Bucky was lying on the floor, limbs splayed out like a starfish and face pressed to the carpeting, and Steve burst into fits of giggles. Bucky turned his head ever so slightly to send Steve a death glare only causing Steve to lose control of his laughter. He almost missed the slight smile that Bucky sent him before his friend got up to turn on the game._

_~_

_About halfway through the third inning, Bucky and Steve were already bored and were doodling on some scraps of paper that Bucky’s dad gave them._ _“Hey Buck, does your dad have any colorful pens or markers or something?” Steve asked, staring down at his paper intently concentrating on his work. His tongue stuck out and curled on his upper lip while he drew._

_“Wait I have a better idea.” Bucky’s voice was laced with excitement and he ran off to find something. Steve could only guess what this new thing could be. ‘_ I hope he’s not planning some kind of prank,’ _Steve thought matter –of –factly. He knew Bucky well enough to know that that kind of excited tone only meant evil. Or something amazing, but it was probably evil. Steve took a moment from his work to examine what he had completed so far. This was a special drawing, and Steve was very proud of it. He just hoped that his friend would appreciate it as much as he did. With a little anxiety, Steve chewed on the end of his pencil and tried to decide whether or not he should just forget the drawing or show it to Bucky._

_“Steve!” Bucky’s eager shout ripped Steve from his thoughts and he realized he was either in or out at this point. Steve’s head snapped around as his friend ran into the living room and it was almost as if seeing Bucky’s giddy face reassured Steve that he would love the drawing. But his eyes were soon drawn to something else: this curious little box that Bucky held._

_“Buck what are those?”_

_“Colored pencils Steve! Look at them!” Bucky thrust the box out to Steve, and he reached for them a bit uncertainly. He opened the box and peered inside. Steve’s eyes grew wide with interest, and he pulled a pencil out and began to draw, immediately adding color to his paper.  Steve knew Bucky was close behind him, trying to look over his shoulder, but he shrugged him off and slapped his forearms together to cover the paper._

_“You can’t see it until I’m finished,” he mumbled stubbornly. Bucky pouted and rocked back on his knees._

_“Ugh fine. You’re such a pain.” But Steve didn’t hear his friend’s complaints, because he was too busy sketching a face._

_~_

_Twenty minutes later, Steve poked at Bucky’s arm, in an attempt to wake him up.  The drawing cradled protectively against his chest, he prodded Bucky again. “Wake up! I’m finished. I want you to see it!”_

_“Mmm what is it Steve?” Bucky groaned as he rolled over on his side, his eyes half open. Steve’s bright smile and glowing eyes were revealing enough, but he still couldn’t contain how pleased he was with himself as he flipped his paper around to show his best friend. Bucky’s eyes grew wide with wonder; he was looking at himself._

_“Steve, this is… this is incredible, how did you do this?” Steve couldn’t exactly read what he saw in Bucky’s expression. He couldn’t tell if it was simply awe, or if maybe it was… admiration?_

_“Those colored pencils are amazing Buck,” he humbled himself. “I wish I could have some of my own.” He flipped the picture around so he could see his work again. The colors astounded him, he’d never used any kind of art tool like those pencils before, and he could only dream of getting his own box._

_“Steve, can I keep that picture?” Bucky’s quiet, almost shy question brought Steve out of his thoughts and he looked at his friend and smiled._

_“Of course you can.” He easily passed the drawing over. He hoped for this kind of reaction, and his heart beat easy now that he got it. Bucky looked fondly at the picture. Once again, Steve tried to read Bucky’s expression, but was met only with confusion.  But he watched as Bucky reached an arm out to his head and messed his hair as he always did._

_“Punk.”_

_“Jerk.”_

_~_

Joy loved that memory. She held it cradled in her arms as if it were a small child. It was so special and precious, but more than anything, it kept Steve going.  Whenever he was down, or sick, or hurt, Joy would play that memory because she knew it would make Steve happy. And deep down, she also knew that Bucky shared the same memory, she wasn’t sure exactly how she knew, but she could almost guarantee it.

“Joy! What are you doing, you need to pay attention, Steve’s taking a test right now, and we’re stuck!” Joy jumped at the sound of Anger’s earnest shouts and almost dropped the memory. 

“Hold on, hold on,” she hastily cried out.  Carefully she put the golden memory back where it belonged and then proceeded to walk over to the control panel to see what the trouble was. Her eyes darted to the large screen overhead.  She saw Steve’s test paper, still blank even after fifteen minutes into class.

“Okay, okay, hold on. Let me think.” Hurriedly – but efficiently -- Joy studied the first question:

 

Who was the founding father that primarily wrote the Declaration of Independence?

  1.     George Washington
  2.     Thomas Jefferson
  3.      Abraham Lincoln
  4.     Thomas Paine



 

Steve knew this one! But why couldn’t they recall the answer? American History was his best subject. Joy’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she thought back to all the memories of Steve’s history class… “That’s it!” Joy scanned the control panel and proceeded to furiously pound the correct buttons and project the exact memory she was looking for.  The five emotions stared intently as they watched it and searched for the correct answer within. 

“There!” Disgust shouted out, “on the blackboard! Thomas Jefferson!”

Joy laughed triumphantly and slammed the button, allowing Steve to confidently select the correct answer. 

“Nice work, team! Next question,” Joy grinned at the others and whipped her head back to the test, eager and ready for the next one.

 

Thirty minutes later, Steve jolted when the bell rang, and picked his pencil up from the paper.  He had thankfully just finished the last question on the test right as class ended, and he carried his paper up to his teacher.

Joy, Anger, and Disgust slumped down beside the control panel, exhausted.  Originally all five emotions had been working on the test, but the remaining three decided to send Sadness and Fear away because they were second-guessing each and every question, and as a result, they were slowing the team down drastically.

 _At least it’s the end of the school day_ , Joy thought as she slowly picked herself up off the floor and began to watch Steve as he walked through the hallways.

“There ya are Steve!” Bucky said, poking Steve in the back with a pencil. “You coming back to my place today?” Joy noticed that his question was more of a statement. Steve almost always went back to Bucky’s house after school. At least ever since his mother passed away about six months before. Steve was still trying to wrap his head around it. Sadness spent many late days and nights running the panel and leading the group, trying to help Steve through the emotional processes that went along with the passing of a loved one. Joy stayed out of her way for the most part, unless she felt it was better for Steve to mask his sadness in front of certain people; namely his friends and teachers at school.  After all, he was about sixteen now, and he did not want anybody to see that he was upset. Joy hated letting Steve go under Sadness’ control, but she knew it was best for him for the time being; especially considering what happened when his father passed away.

All five emotions remembered how much of a struggle it was to get Steve through that one.  He was so young, and the emotions were still quite new to their jobs.  Consequently, dealing with this kind of emotional trauma resulted in daily arguments, fights, and the slamming of unknown buttons on the control panel.  Every day for months, Steve struggled to figure out exactly what had happened to his father, and when the realization hit him, Joy and Sadness fought for control to try and help him in ways they each thought best. Eventually, Joy began to realize that Sadness was what Steve needed, so she let her take the reins but stood by, ready to step up in case Steve needed her.

“Yeah Buck, I’m coming,” Steve gave his friend a faint smile. “Just as usual.” His head hung ever so slightly. Joy tried to pick him up a little before Bucky noticed but it was already too late. She saw the concern plain as day in Bucky’s eyes as he stared intently at his friend.

“C’mon Stevie, my mom will have cookies made” Bucky draped an arm over Steve’s shoulders and Joy felt Steve relax in comfort and relief. Bucky was the only friend that Steve could be truly himself around. When he was with others, Joy and the other four emotions kept parts of Steve hidden from the world. Though exceedingly selfless and kind, Steve was a closed-off and private person, and the five emotions liked to keep it that way. The only person they couldn’t hide him from was Bucky.  But strangely, Joy didn’t mind. She trusted Bucky, more so than anybody else, even Aunt Liz.

“Thanks Buck.”

~

After their daily twenty-minute walk, Steve and Bucky finally arrived back home. Joy, Anger, and Disgust were all enjoying a little break time with Sadness and Fear when the pair arrived. But bright blue and red lights on the screen above caught Fear’s sharp eye. “Oh no,” his faint whisper was barely perceptible.  Joy heard him and carefully looked up at the screen.  Almost instantly, her happy smile flipped as she saw the bright police lights flash across her face. Deep down, she knew what they meant. They all knew. She heard Anger’s audible gulp behind her, and felt a soft hand, a green one, on her shoulder as a gesture of comfort. Joy reached her hand up and covered Disgust’s ever so gently. Steve didn’t need this.  Not again. Not again.

Joy was ripped from her thoughts when she heard Bucky draw in a sharp breath. The five of them looked up, trying to get a read of his expression.  They felt his arm tighten protectively around Steve’s shoulders.  Steve’s heart was racing. Fear was practically bubbling over with possibilities of what could have happened that resulted in the police being at Steve’s best friend’s house.

“C’mon,” Bucky’s arm was wrapped so tightly around Steve’s shoulders that it was a wonder Steve could even move at all. At that moment, Bucky’s mom ran out of the doors, and over to the boys as quickly as she could in her heels.  Her face was streaked wet with tears, and black smudges from her makeup.

“Oh Steve, oh Steve, sweetheart.” She practically threw herself at him and held him tightly in her arms, as a mother would.  She didn’t have to say a word though.  Tears were already dripping on her shoulder and running down her sleeve.  He knew. He was all alone in the world.  He had no family left.  Sadness slowly stepped up to the control panel and wiped a tear from her cheek.  Joy slumped -- practically fell onto the tiled floor. She felt defeated. They just couldn’t win. Steve had been through so much already and now this. Now this.

“She’s gone isn’t she?” Steve chocked out through his sobs. “Aunt Liz is gone.” His voice sounded so strangled and pained as he tried to maintain his composure but failed within seconds.

“Steve, honey I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” Bucky’s mom pulled away slightly to look at him, to brush away a few tears even though more continued to fall and run down his thin cheeks. Joy’s eyes pricked sharply. She felt so much pain. She couldn’t feel this pain; she shouldn’t.  She was Joy; the happy emotion, the one that got Steve through all of the hard times and the one who was supposed to keep him happy.  But she was breaking. Her world was breaking. Her Steve was breaking. Aunt Liz was gone. Steve had no family left.

All he had was Bucky.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first attempt at fanfiction, and I hope you guys have enjoyed this first post. I don't know how often I will be updating, but I will do my best, and I can't wait to see how this story turns out. Thanks for reading guys, I hope you all enjoy!**


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